Sidewinder: Frozen Hell
by legacymaster
Summary: The Master Chief, along with a handful of marines, must defend this frozen tundra from the Covenant onslaught.


Disclaimer: All names, weapons, vehicles, creatures, and areas named in this facfic are property of Bungie

**Sidewinder**

**Frozen Hell**

Six marines jumped off of Pelican 419 onto the white snow, followed closely by a large green figure. It was the last one of the experimental Spartan II's, Spartan 117. The Master Chief moved in front of the marines and lead them into a small bunker the their left. Once inside, the Spartan led them all up a rail ladder to a higher level. After all the marines had gotten up behind him, Spartan 117 picked up the S2 AM sniper rifle that had been dropped off by earlier patrols and gave his MA5B assault rifle to one of the marines.

"Hold this," he said in a deep scratchy voice.

Private Breton nodded and grabbed the rifle in his unoccupied hand. His other hand was holding his olive drab parka over his cold chest. He looked to the other marines and they too were holding their parkas tight across their chests. Of the six marines, he and two others carried the standard assault rifles. One of the others, private Jamerson, carried an M19 SSM rocket launcher, and the sixth soldier carried and M90 tactical shotgun.

"Private," called the Master Chief, "my rifle."

Breton held out the rifle and the Spartan took it, then began making slight modifications. The private went back to the other marines and struck up a conversation.

However, it was short lived. One of the riflemen standing near the wide opening behind them shouted.

"Contacts! Lots of contacts!"

The Master Chief slammed a clip into the assault rifle, then leaned it against the wall. He grabbed the S2 AM sniper rifle and pointed it towards the incoming Covenant drop ships. As the Phantoms dropped grunts and elites on the ground, the humans began picking them off. Spartan 117 took aim on an Elite's head and pulled the trigger. Purple blood splattered the ground behind it as it fell. Master Chief moved his sights to another Elite, then dropped it as well. _This is almost to easy_, he thought to himself.

Beside the Chief, the marines we laying fire into their opponents. One of the riflemen blew a grunts head completely off, then yelled, "Get your ass up you mother-" but before he could finish his sentence, an overcharged plasma shot from a grunt's plasma pistol flared into his face. He screamed in agony as his face slowly melted. Dublar, the rocket soldier, heard the screaming over the firing and looked over at the rifleman. He began to move, but Breton stopped him.

"He's dead! There isn't anything you can do!"

"I have to do something!" Dublar shouted back in his slight Australian accent.

Breton grabbed Dublar's parka and pulled it towards himself. "Damnit I told you there is nothing you can do for him. Now fire your weapon!"

Dublar nodded his head and picked up his rocket launcher, then fired a round into a group of grunts that had just been dropped off. The grunts squealed as they were blown to pieces by the powerful rocket blast. Breton took his eyes off Dublar and began firing at the Elites on the ground. He focused his fire entirely on one Elite, trying to take its shields down before it could fire at him, but he didn't finish in time. The Elite opened fire with it's plasma rifle. The plasma hit the ledge directly in front of Private Breton, forcing him to back up because of the extreme heat. After the shots stopped coming in his direction, Breton moved up again and continued firing.

Another Phantom flew in from above them, this time dropping two ghosts on the snow. They hovered momentarily, then began swerving and firing up at the marines. The Master Chief picked up his MA5B assault rifle and turned around, heading down the ladder.

"Master Chief! Where the hell do you think your going?"

The Spartan just continued down the ladder.

Once outside the structure, Spartan 117 could see more drop ships unloading dozens of grunts and Elite's just on the other side of the cliff. The Master Chief took off towards them, staying close the cliff wall, trying to stay out of sight of the two ghosts behind him. Once he was around the tip of the cliff wall, he turned, lowered the sniper rifle, and fired at the Elite piloting one of the ghosts. In a last second attempt to take out some marines, the Elite pushed his ghost forward at top speed, sending it crashing into the wall ahead of it. The explosion sent flames towering into the sky, most likely injuring the marines. Master Chief fired at the other Elite twice, the ensure it didn't do the same thing. Blood sprayed from the Elite's head, covering the ground behind it, just before it flew from its seat onto the ground. Master Chief returned his attention to the newly dropped Covenant. More than a hundred of them shook the ground, coming in his direction. He could see the gold and white Elites leading them. A few black Elites ran ahead of the group, scouting. The Spartan leveled his sniper rifle, taking aim on one of the black Elites. He pulled the trigger once, taking the head of one. He pulled it again and blew half of another's face off. A third found his position and fired two beam rifle shots in quick succession, causing its weapon to overheat. Spartan 117 took this opportunity to remove its head from its shoulders. One more black Elite was running on the far left side of the open field. Taking aim at it, Master Chief pulled the trigger, and heard a metallic click. The stabbing reality came to him a second later. He was in the middle of and open snow field, wearing bright green MJOLNIR armor, facing a Covenant army, with no long range ammunition.

Knowing what he had to do, Spartan 117 dropped the S2 AM sniper rifle and pulled out his assault rifle. If he was going to die, he was going to give them hell before he did. He walked out into the middle of the snow field and leveled the assault rifle, waiting for the army to come into range. As it came closer, the Spartan began to feel something he had never felt before. It started off small, almost unrecognizable. But as the army grew closer, this strange feeling grew bigger. He eliminated all possible emotions that he had ever felt, but this was unlike anything he had ever felt. With another stabbing pain he realized what it was. It was fear.

The Covenant came closer and closer, now just barely out of range of his assault rifle. He wondered how many he could take down before they killed him. Ten, maybe fifteen. Not enough to make a difference to the Covenant hierarchy. Finally, the lead Elites came into range of his rifle, and without a second thought, he opened fire.

_His bullets tore holes in the small grunts, but did little to no damage to the shielded Elites. The surge of enemies continued to press towards him, and the Master Chief slowly backed up, reloading as he did. But as soon as he finished reloading the rifle, the mass of enemies stopped moving, and some actually backed up. The Chief watched them, and saw they weren't focusing on him, but on something behind him._

As he turned, Spartan 117 saw the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. More than a hundred Pelicans were just beginning to unload soldiers, all of them equipped with state of the art weaponry and armor. At once they began to fire at the stunned Covenant, who, in return, also opened fire. In only a matter of seconds, the ground was covered in purple blood. Spartan 117 turned to see how the troops were doing, and to his surprise, very few were hurt, and none were dead. Returning his attention to the battle at hand, he opened fire with his assault rifle. The grunts squealed and ran, and the Elites charged, only to be shot down. The humans advanced, inch by inch, until suddenly, the Covenant lines broke completely. They all turned tail and ran. The humans chased after them, firing along the way. The Master Chief looked to his right and saw a familiar face. It was Private Breton. His face was darkened with burn marks, and his clothes were tattered, but he showed no signs of fear or pain. The Chief grinned to himself and continued chasing the Covenant.

Private Breton managed to get to the front of the running humans, and was one of the first to round the tip of the cliff. Once around to the other side however, his smile vanished. The Covenant had stopped running, and was waiting for them. Before they could take cover, the Covenant opened fire. Breton saw three marines take hits and fall to the ground, writhing in agony.

"Shit! Oh shit! Fall back! Marines! Fall the hell back!"

Breton heard a sergeant shouting to fall back, but after that, all he could hear was screaming. He began firing at the grunts, trying to take some of the numbers down, but it was useless. Breton saw a plasma shot coming towards him. He dropped and rolled out of the way. Behind him, a private took the hit.

"Oh my God! Someone help! Get it off! Oh my God! Mother! Someone help please! Help me!" His screams slowly faded, but were replaced by others.

The humans that were left managed to find cover and fired back at their attackers. Master Chief picked up two sub machine guns from a dead soldier and fired into the mass of enemies. The recoil of the weapons was so strong, it forced his firing up, and caused him to miss most of his shots. Dropping the SMGs, the Spartan picked up one of the newer battle rifles and began firing. He aimed for the heads of Elites, taking them down one by one.

Breton fired his battle rifle randomly into the Covenant. He didn't want to stick his head out from behind his rock. He knew he would die if he did. After he thought this, a marine fell over the rock, half of his head was missing, and the veins that didn't get cauterized were seeping blood across the once white snow. The private looked at the soldier, accepted his own fate, and stood, firing for all he was worth. He dropped a grunt first, then and Elite. Purple blood now flowed like a river across the quickly melting snow and ice. Suddenly, he felt a mass of heat on his left side, and when he turned to look, he saw a plasma shot flying through the air. It hit him in the arm, burning through it instantly.

"Oh shit! My arm! Oh shit oh shit!" He couldn't feel the pain. His senses were dead. Whether it was from adrenaline, shock, or that he may be dead, he didn't know. But he didn't feel the pain.

Spartan 117 got up from his cover and fired into the remaining Covenant, which now consisted of a handful of grunts and a few Elites. The grunts ran, and were killed quickly by the few marines concealed in the rocks. Master Chief took out two more Elites, and the last one charged him, extending a plasma sword. The Chief fired three volleys into the Elite, but only took out its shields before it got to him. The black Elite slashed at the Spartan's chest, but missed. Master Chief punched the Elite in the face, and felt its jaw break. He grabbed it by the neck and began choking it to death. The Elite struggled back, finally throwing the Spartan to the ground. Master Chief started to get up, but the Elite put a massive foot on his chest. The super soldier felt the breath pressed from his lungs as the Elite increased the pressure on his chest. The Chief grabbed its foot and tried to pulled it off, but to no avail. It seemed as though the Elite was laughing. It made low grunting noises as it pulled its arm from behind its back. But in place of its hand, there was a blood nub. It looked at its wrist, then at the Chief, then behind it. The Elite moved its foot when it turned, and the Chief took hold of the opportunity and tackled the huge alien. They fell to the ground, both throwing punches. Every time the Elite hit the Master Chief with its nub, it would howl, and purple blood would flow over the Chief's armor. Finally getting the beast on its back, the Spartan punched it over and over, until all that was left was a bloody hole in its oversized skull.

At last, the Spartan stood, still staring at the mutilated body of the Elite, and turned around to see the carnage.

The marines the hadn't died were helping the wounded, but there were so few wounded. Most that were shot were killed. And that was apparent here. At least eighty percent of the soldiers that had been dropped were dead. Another fifteen percent were wounded severely. Only a few managed to go unharmed. The Spartan passed all of this and went back around the cliff. He saw twenty Pelicans waiting there. He stepped up onto the first one he saw and leaned against the pilot seat.

"You won't need more than five," he said dismally.

The pilot turned to look at him, but the Chief moved to a seat and sat down, dropping his weapon to the floor.


End file.
